


to make him feel at home again

by farseandfolly



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 03:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7249849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farseandfolly/pseuds/farseandfolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Akaashi is feeling like crap and Bokuto is there to make him feel better.<br/>(Bokuto gives the best hugs trust me on this one).</p>
            </blockquote>





	to make him feel at home again

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so ashamed of the medly of I'm Not Okay by MCR and Bad Day by Daniel Powter that has been booming in  
> my head while writing this :,)

 

Akaashi Keiji was having one of those days.

It began promptly at six o'clock, when he awoke with a suffocating lump in his throat to the golden sun rays that seemed to filter through Bokuto's owl curtains in a way that was more annoyingly bright and invasive than usual. The bright rays (or more appropriately, death lasers) left Akaashi in a constant state of dizziness until breakfast half an hour later, where he made the _shocking_ discovery that the Chocolate Special K Cereal that he'd brought with him for the week had 'disappeared'.

Of course, this was according to the likely culprit, Bokuto Koutarou, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, an incredulous expression colouring his owlish features at Akaashi's disbelief because it was ' _too early for such ridiculous accusations against his character_ '. 

Akaashi had seen the chocolate flakes around his mouth.

His mood only worsened when, promptly after getting out of the shower, he was immediately assaulted by his host for the week, who slammed straight through the bathroom door and lunged himself at towel - clad, wide-eyed and miserable Akaashi. This sudden assault was not appreciated by the younger boy, who, with wet hair and a colourful vocabulary, tried to duck under and deflect Bokuto's excited hits to his bare arms and random kisses to his cheeks, while still trying, and failing, to keep his towel tied around his waist. 

After a series of swears and returned hits, Akaashi was finally able to release himself from his boyfriend's clutches, only to be hurried to the bedroom a mere two seconds later to get dressed because - ' _Holy shit, Akaashi, Tatsuki texted me and there's a fight starting outside with the two third years by the big sakura tree, and we're gonna miss it if we don't_ _hurry,'_

 

 

 

As expected, Akaashi's mood did not improve in the slightest, and the two boys _did_ in fact miss the fight. However, the latter didn't stop Bokuto and the rest of the team from retelling the story at least twenty times throughout the day to anyone who would listen, each time with a new and more outrageous addition to the tale before it. 

"Bokuto, stop telling the first years that Tsubaki-san jump kicked Niitori-san through the second floor window," Akaashi sighed during their lunch period, after Bokuto approached two small (and terrified) first years and started describing the tale of the previous battle to them in great detail, hand gestures included.

"But Akaashi! That's what happened!"

 Akaashi casted a sideways glance at the owlish boy, unable to muster enough energy for a suitable retort as he covered his uneaten bento box and set it aside. 

His lack of energy was just another component to his sour mood, and it rightfully earned it's position high on the Akaashi's Listing of Most to Least Shitty.

Most to Least Shitty Of what?

He didn't know. 

He didn't know why it felt as though he was Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his measly shoulders as they hunched over in pain and exhaustion. 

He didn't know why his eyes burned with every blink, and why they threatened to burst through with tears like water through a dam with one too many cracks.

He didn't know why he felt so anxious walking through the bleach scented halls of a school he'd attended for most of his life, with people he trusted wholeheartedly.

He didn't know why the _goddamn lump_ was still ebbing, _lingering_ at the back of his throat and stabbing straight through his oesophagus like a knife through butter in the most spontaneous and sudden of times, almost as though it was threatening to escape the fleshy prison that was his throat. 

All of these factors, combined with the constant frustration that coursed through his veins because it was so unlike him to be so melancholy and under the weather that he felt almost guilty and ashamed, simultaneously left Akaashi Keiji both emotionless and full of unwanted emotion.

And he hated every second of it. 

 

 

 

It was dark when volleyball practice ended, and, after helping the others with cleaning up and putting away equipment, Akaashi and Bokuto began the long walk back to Bokuto's apartment, hands clasped and swinging slightly. 

It was almost as if practice was the pinprick in his Balloon of Feelings, because Akaashi had to excuse himself and 'use the bathroom' as the lump was making great progress in it's grand escape plan, and he _swore_ he wouldn't be around to let his team witness it's mighty victory. 

So, he was thankful that he could escape the confusion of practice and walk with Bokuto through the crisp night, even if the walk was only half an hour long and Akaashi was going to literally break down at any second.

He was thankful that, despite not being able to clearly see due to his fixed gaze on the sidewalk below him, he could envision Bokuto's wide grin and eyes sparkling with pride as he told the younger boy that he  _'didn't fail English,  my mark was the pass mark, what are the odds,'_

He was thankful for their entwined hands; for the light touches that Bokuto would run casually across Akaashi's fingers in such an easy manner, almost instinctively, without disrupting his flow of speech. 

However, he cursed his trembling hands for shaking as though they'd been set on vibrate, for easily uncovering what he'd been trying so  _fucking hard_ to conceal for the _whole damn day_. 

"Akaashi, what's wrong?"

And it was funny, because Akaashi didn't notice the hot tears silently streaking his clammy face until he realised how visibly wet the tops of his sneakers had become, dotted with the newly emancipated tears that had dripped off his chin and onto the clean, white surfaces of his shoes.

The dam broke. 

It was then that Akaashi let out a choked sob, his body racking with uncontrollable heaving motions that had been begging to be released for the longest while. His face was on fire, and his eyes began to burn as he hastily rubbed them with his fingers in such a desperate manner, implying that he was certain that if he wished hard enough, the cursed tears would disappear. His body betrayed him, he thought he could hold out for so much longer, he'd been doing so well and this is exactly what he didn't want to - 

And then there is pair of strong arms that do not hesitate to pull him tightly into an embrace, squeezing just enough in all the right areas to make Akaashi feel safest. It is indescribable, the sheer amount of weight that is heaved off of his shoulders, how perfectly the two fit together and bend into each other as if they were made of clay. 

 _Bokuto_. 

_Thank God, Bokuto_

And Akaashi almost melts into the older boy, holding him tightly and letting himself be held, because he didn't realise just how much he'd needed this until now. 

_Bokuto._

It was the same Bokuto who insists on being big spoon, and who owns at least thirty pairs of owl patterned boxers to date.

The same Bokuto who eats Akaashi's cereal, and, despite how invasive, barges into the bathroom and showers Akaashi with kisses after his bath. 

The same Bokuto who is holding Akaashi like a lifeline, pressing soft kisses to random spots on the younger boy's face, to his shiny tear tracks and quivering lips, and running his fingers through his curls as he delivers several murmured 'I love you's, to which Akaashi feverishly nods in response. 

The same Bokuto who is always there for him, without fail, despite how excitable or extravagant. 

The same Bokuto who would slay dragons and win all the volleyball games in the world and hold him while he had a mental breakdown, even if it was late at night and under the flickering street lights, just to make him feel safe.

To make him feel at home again. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so this may not be the greatest thing, but bokuaka is so precious and a certain idiot (love you) got me way too excited for this.  
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
